


Bee Pants

by ClaireBHypno



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bees! - Freeform, Established Relationship, Fluff, Loving John, M/M, Shy Sherlock, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, all the fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 22:57:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireBHypno/pseuds/ClaireBHypno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is following a suspect through the ladies underwear department when he gets distracted....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bee Pants

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the lovely ladies in my Twitter group, who are there for mutual hand-holding and flailing sessions... Love you all x
> 
> I have never been to the shop in question, I hope I haven't taken too many geographical liberties!

Sherlock was gliding through the ladies underwear department of Primark, Oxford Street West, following a suspect in his current case. He knew she was the murderer, from the shops she had gone into, but he was following her so they could let Lestrade know where to find her. He ducked behind a display of knickers so he wouldn’t be seen, and that was when he saw them. All thoughts of the suspect immediately flew from his mind; his breathing almost stopped, and his focus zeroed in on the packet in front of him. Bee pants. Four pairs, two plain black with white elasticated bands round the waist, two pairs of white. One pair with a bee on the front, and the slogan “Bee amazing,” one pair with a regular pattern of small bees all over.

His first thought was “I have to have them!” followed immediately by another: “What will John think?” Sherlock paused for just a moment, but his desire was too great. He grabbed a packet from the hook, then realised it had women’s sizes written on, so he furtively undid it and extracted a plain black pair. Sherlock tried unobtrusively to size them up against his own hips, but couldn’t help being seen by a staff member who was tidying another part of the display.

“They’re for my girlfriend,” he gabbled quickly, I’m just trying to work out what size she takes!” The staff member gave him an odd look, the kind that says, ‘I-know-exactly-who-they’re-for-and-I’ll-lay-money-that-it-isn’t-a-girlfriend,’ but turned to continue what she was doing. Sherlock finished sizing up the underwear, and grabbed as many packets as the shop had in the right size. He strode up to the counter to pay, patient enough at the thought of owning bee pants to queue behind other shoppers – he NEVER had to queue in Spencer Hart – but still impatient enough to huff and puff while he did so.

When Sherlock got to the counter, he piled the packets on top, moving swiftly to catch the slippery packet that threatened to fall. When the bored assistant behind the counter gave him the total, Sherlock was amazed at how little the man asked for; he’d never paid so little for any one pair of underwear, let alone 16 pairs! He paid, and grabbed the brown paper bag containing his treasures, and swept out of the shop. All thoughts of the suspect were completely forgotten, until he bumped right into John who was standing on the street a couple of doors down from the shop, where he could keep an eye out for the suspect in case Sherlock lost her.

“Well? Is it her?” John asked, moving from foot to foot in his eagerness.

“Is it who?” Sherlock said, distractedly.

“The suspect, is it her?!” John was almost shouting now, “She’s almost out of sight, Sherlock, do I need to go… and…” He had suddenly realised that Sherlock was carrying a bag, and that he was showing no signs of recognising that he was on a case. “Sherlock, is everything okay? You look a bit distracted mate, did something happen in there?”

“Oh, I, um… I couldn’t get a clear look at her, I had to buy something because the staff were suspicious of me…” Sherlock’s voice became stronger as he went on speaking; John could almost see him working out the right story to tell. He wondered what was in the bag that Sherlock didn’t want him to know about; very occasionally he would get embarrassed about little things, but a bit of reassurance and a cuddle from John usually kept him right. Whatever it was, John knew it was something Sherlock wanted very much, and he was determined that he should have it, and furthermore, that he should not be embarrassed by it.

“Okay, okay, you managed to avoid suspicion, chuck it away and let’s get after her!” John said, turning back to the suspect. He reasoned that with Sherlock as distracted as he was, a little reverse psychology might do the trick. “Maybe you can get a better look, then we’ll know if it’s her or the sister, right?” Sherlock turned to John, agony on his face, clutching the bag tightly to his chest.

“But John, it’ll be more suspicious if I buy something and then just throw it…” He trailed off, noticing John’s gentle smile.

“What did you buy, love? Show me the wonderful thing you found, won’t you, my gorgeous boy?” Sherlock’s eyes dropped and he blushed, a rosy blush that lit up his whole face and made him look ten years younger. He gradually released his grip on the bag and pushed it in John’s direction. John took the bag and opened it, never taking his eyes from Sherlock’s. He held it back out towards Sherlock, and said, “Show me?”

Sherlock blushed a little more, and pulled one of the packets from the bag, offering it to John shyly. “Go on, love, show me,” John encouraged.

“Bees,” Sherlock said, adoringly tongue-tied. He looked up at John from underneath his eyelashes, as though he were worried about what John’s reaction was going to be. John just stood patiently, smiling at him.

“Come on love, let’s go home so you can show me properly, okay? We can follow her again tomorrow so you can get a good look.” He reached for Sherlock’s hand, and began to draw him away from the shop, in the direction of the nearest Tube station.

“No need John, it’s her. I did see enough to tell, I was just…” He trailed off uncertainly; again not sure about how John would react to knowing Sherlock had lied. John just laughed.

“Did you text Greg?” Sherlock shook his head. “So clever, solving a murder amidst all that distraction! Let me just send Greg a message then, and we can go home… Just the two of us and the bees, okay?” Sherlock smiled a shy smile, dropped the packet back into the bag John was still holding, and waited patiently while he laboriously typed out a message to Greg. When John was finished, he took Sherlock’s hand gently in his own, and the two set off down the street together, back to Baker Street, so that Sherlock could show John his new treasures.


End file.
